


Make You Jump Out of Your Skin

by ladydragona, SylviaW1991



Series: Simply Meant to Be [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nightmare Before Christmas Fusion, Body Horror, But he doesn't actually feel any pain, Established Relationship, Happy Halloween, If you can handle the rest, M/M, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Non-Sexual Intimacy, Patchwork Aziraphale, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Though someone does end up in someone, Unusual Intimacy, When your partner is a living doll that opens up all kinds of possibilities, snake in a can, so all's good, these tags are a mess, you can probably handle this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragona/pseuds/ladydragona, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaW1991/pseuds/SylviaW1991
Summary: Halloween is fast approaching but Crowley is struggling to come up with a good enough scare for his act. Luckily for him Aziraphale can still be a source of inspiration....
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Simply Meant to Be [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981459
Comments: 24
Kudos: 106





	Make You Jump Out of Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> ladydragona  
> So, the blame for this can be laid at the feet of ZehWulf and noodlefrog. Syl and I were just inspired by a wonderful conversation they contributed to in the GO-events discord server.
> 
> Syl  
> 💖 A good time was had, lol

Aziraphale hummed cheerfully, rolling out the crust for a probably-meat pie. The oven had been on most of the morning, adding warmth to a particularly frigid August day. He’d awakened with limbs banded tight around him, squeezing in an effort to get as close to him as possible. He was still trying to keep himself warm, the poor dear.

The patchwork being opened the oven door and slid the top shelf out, smiling fondly at the black and red pile of scales huddled in the middle of a bread pan. “I need the oven now, darling. You’ll have to come out.”

Crowley peeked a single golden eye above the lip of the pan. “Don’ wanna. It’sss warm.” He’d never thought about using the oven to ward away the chill that occasionally ravaged their usually mild autumn days until Aziraphale had commented on how heat proof he was. And being baked while Azirphale puttered around the kitchen was much better than sleeping in the roaring fireplace and having to clean the soot off later. “Jussst throw the pie in with me.”

“You’ll throw off the balance, dear. You don’t want the crust to come out flaky and golden-brown, do you?”

“Nooo. Won’t ruin your pie, angel,” Crowley grumbled and slowly uncurled to slither up Aziraphale’s arm to lay across his shoulders. Not nearly as hot as the oven but much more comfortable and soft.

Aziraphale stroked beneath his chin before sliding the pie into the oven and setting the screaming timer. He was burning hot across his shoulders, but their home had a very nice amount of drafts. He’d probably start to cool off in no time at all. “Why don’t I start a fire? I don’t have any loose strands, so it shouldn’t be quite as disastrous as last time.”

Crowley eyed him warily. “Be careful. Assss fun asss all the new sssstitching iss, I’d rather you not be a pile of asssh.” Aziraphale could survive a lot of things, but Crowley didn’t want to push his chances that far.

The new stitching _was_ rather fun. Aziraphale wiggled, then kissed the top of that serpentine head. “If you’re that worried, you could always transform.”

“And Anathema callsss me the menacsse,” Crowley grumbled, body shifting and changing until he was draped over Aziraphale’s back like a particularly boney black cape. “I’ll get it, but only if you stop runnin’ about and let me use you as a pillow for the rest of the day.”

“I still need to run about when the timer goes off, but you know I don’t mind you coiling around me.” Aziraphale smiled. “You menace.”

Crowley grinned and nosed along Aziraphale’s cheek from behind, only barely avoiding a seam, to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t play coy, angel. I know how much you _love_ it when you’re in my clutches.”

He fled the kitchen and its warmth before Aziraphale could retaliate. A fire needed to get started and Crowley knew Aziraphale would quickly follow anyway.

He picked up the timer before he did lest he miss it, shaking his head. Silly serpent. Of course he loved being in his clutches. His coils were cool to the touch and smooth, his claws beautifully treacherous, and those hands knew how to take Aziraphale apart in ways he highly enjoyed - there was frankly nowhere better than at Crowley’s mercy. He settled in his favourite armchair, something Aziraphale had cobbled together himself shortly after officially moving in the previous December, and watched his beloved poke at logs and hiss at the burgeoning flames in his threatening way.

But Aziraphale knew he was still cold. The oven's warmth was already fading, little tremors wracking Crowley’s shoulders. The misting rains were the real issue, the damp making the cold seem even worse. Not as bad as Christmas Town's snow, but certainly not pleasant for the cold-blooded Pumpkin King.

He needed somewhere warm to burrow into, like the oven but not currently in use. But he'd promised - in his way - to let Crowley use him as a pillow. He could just put him in a coat pocket, which seemed like a dull place for him to be. Or... Perhaps somewhere else, somewhere a bit more intimate. Not an intimate enough place to distract Aziraphale from finishing lunch as he was beginning to feel a touch peckish, but maybe he could let Crowley discover what it was like to be in someone's clutches.

His humming from the kitchen resumed, the tune from the only Christmas song he'd actually enjoyed, and undid his bowtie, his waistcoat, part of the shirt beneath, and then he slid a stitch ripper out of his coat pocket. There was an old seam in his chest from where his organs - such as they were - had been first inserted. He carefully undid the stitches, a mix of cotton and feathers appearing like a facsimile of chest hair as he partially opened his chest cavity for his beloved's gain.

After all, Crowley already effectively held Aziraphale’s heart in his hands. Why not let him hold it in his coils?

Crowley nearly tripped over his own feet and into the fireplace when he turned around to see Aziraphale with his chest on display and _his oldest seam_ ripped open. Even in the relaxed comfort of their shared home Aziraphale rarely went without his layers, careful to hide his sensitive stitching when outside the bedroom. “Ngk. Angel. W-what are you doing?”

“I thought you might like to tuck away somewhere warmer than my shoulders.” Aziraphale had spent these months working on building up his confidence, but sometimes it slipped. He dropped his gaze, running the seam ripper through his fingers. “A bit presumptuous, I suppose.”

“Wouldn’t say that,” Crowley said, drawing close enough to run his fingers across the backs of Aziraphale’s hands. “Just took me by surprise is all.” He couldn’t help his eyes being drawn to the tufts of feathers and cotton sticking out of Aziraphale’s chest or how he wanted to run his hands through it.

He probably could. Wasn’t that what was being asked? To be held warm and close amongst the stuffing that gave Aziraphale his shape? Crowley pressed a grin into white-blond curls. “Are you asking me to be inside you, angel?”

“I normally don't have to ask. You're usually quite willing,” Aziraphale replied, amusement clear. “As many feathers as you steal from me, I'd think you wouldn't mind.”

He didn’t usually make Aziraphale ask, a few insinuations and pointed looks from his lover all it took to get his motor running. “Never said I wasn’t willing.” Or eager to have a warm burrow to hide away in and wait out the cold. Crowley ran one hand up Aziraphale’s belly to his bared chest, rubbing his thumb over the edges of the opening and cut stitches. “So long as you’re willing to have the distraction.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale squirmed in his place. “I actually don't know how it's going to feel. My stuffing doesn't quite experience sensation, but I've never had a living thing under my skin, as it were. I just know I'll be able to keep you warm.”

“Then how could I turn that down?” Crowley pressed a kiss to the top of his fluffy head before shifting once again into a snake. Small and barely a foot long, easily mistaken for a benign garden variety were it not for the black and red pattern that warned of the danger he posed.

Crowley flicked his tongue against Aziraphale’s cheek in a snakey kiss, then slithered his way into the open chest cavity. The tickle of cotton stuffing and feathers was reminiscent of the more typical dirt burrows, but much warmer and dryer. Sentimental creature that he was, Crowley headed straight for the wood wool heart he knew resided in Aziraphale’s chest, a contraption of ticking gears in a protective casing, and coiled around it. He settled, soothed by the familiar sound, all encompassing heat, and well-known scent of his patchwork angel.

“Alright out there?”

Aziraphale looked down, but couldn't see a single scale. But he could feel him, a lump of pressure cradling his heart in his coils. His sweet serpent. “Yes, of course. It certainly doesn't hurt. Are you comfortable, darling?”

“Mmm-yeah. Like bein’ in a pillowcassse.” It also quieted the snake half of his brain that had been clamoring for a proper burrow for years. “Might never leave at thisss rate,” Crowley said with a yawn.

“You'll most certainly leave at some point, you wily old serpent.” Aziraphale reached for one of the books taking up the side table. “I don't know how I'll make it to the kitchen when the timer goes off with my chest open like this.”

Crowley snickered and shifted his coils to get more comfortable. “Could alwaysss ssew it back up. Sss’not like a few stitchessss could sssstop me if I had to leave. Gonna be here awhile anyway.” Though Aziraphale’s voice was slightly muffled like this, it was also a bit deeper and he found he liked the vibrations of it.

“Oh, having a snake burst from my chest would be rather macabre, wouldn't it?” More thoughtful than opposed, Aziraphale hummed and opened his book. “Have your nap, dearest. If the timer doesn't wake you, I will for our meal.”

A nap was definitely high up there on the priority list, but now the image of Aziraphale, seemingly completely normal, slowly expanding until a creature of nightmare erupted from his chest was embedded in his mind. And it wasn’t like it would even hurt him.

Despite his boasting at the technically failed Christmas takeover, Crowley had been having trouble coming up with something for the fastly approaching Halloween. Likely a mixture of no longer _needing_ to impress Aziraphale while also having a perfect patchwork distraction at his fingertips.

“Angel, have I reminded you of how brilliant you are today?”

“Mm. Not within the last hour or so. What have I inspired in that clever mind of yours now?”

Crowley couldn’t stop the snakey grin and soft thump of his tail. “What would you sssay to assissssting me thisss Halloween?”

The extra movement seemed to ripple straight through Aziraphale’s makeshift heart and ripple down a barely-there spine. “But that's such an important day for you.”

“And you know I’ve been fresssh out of ideasssss. Only fair you get to take part in the one you inssspired. Bessidessss, I can think of no one elsssse I’d rather burssst out of.”

Silk lashes fluttered. “I'd certainly hope not. But you'd really want to use me for Halloween to _that_ extent?”

If snakes could roll their eyes he would have. “ _Aziraphale_ , I’d love to sssshare Halloween with you. You’re already my partner in everything elssse. Why not thissss too?” Crowley gave the wood wool heart in the center of his coils a gentle nudge with his snout, not sure if Aziraphale could feel it but wanting to share the affection all the same.

Aziraphale shivered, though he was sure he didn't have to warn Crowley to be careful with his heart. It was still an unusual sensation. “We'll have to do it to proper Halloween standards. You're always so wonderfully terrible.”

“Yesssss!” Crowley hissed in delight, tail thumping again. “Angel, I love you! We are going to sssscare everyone.”

Aziraphale giggled. He sounded muffled and his movements were dull through his stuffing, but it was strangely nice. It was even, he would say, comfortable to have his beloved so safe and close. Sharing Halloween with him like this would be lovely. “I love you too, dearest. We'll have to practice, I think.” Because he was not going to be the reason why Crowley’s Halloween performance was lackluster. “I've never put myself back together in front of anyone besides you and the Angels. Unless we have The Them gather up the pieces.”

That was definitely an option, though Crowley did not like the idea of anyone else touching Aziraphale’s unattached pieces. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll sssshield you from prying eyesss.”

“I don't doubt that at all, you wily serpent.” Adoring his needless possessiveness, Aziraphale wiggled giddily. “It's going to be such fun.”

Crowley had to agree, he couldn’t wait to share the most important day of their year with Aziraphale. “I think,” he yawned, “I’ll nap now.”

Aziraphale drew the needle out from behind his ear with a considering hum. “Alright, dearest. Have lovely nightmares.”

“Alwaysss.” He usually had “lovely” nightmares. Especially since Aziraphale had started staying with him and even more frequently than that after they started sharing a room, a bed. There was nothing better than falling asleep with arms, coils, or both wrapped around his angel; he had no doubt being cocooned in him instead would yield similar results.

Smiling to himself, the needle tucked into his wrist, Aziraphale opened his book again to read until the rippling coils settled. He knew what it was like when Crowley slept. He’d crept into his room nearly a year ago now to get measurements for a pair of Christmas gloves, but hadn’t been able to resist taking advantage of the opportunity to see him sleeping. Like a peaceful candle, pale waxy skin and flame-red hair over dark pillows. Terribly handsome, his serpent, whatever form he took.

He’d longed to burrow into bed beside him then, to give him all the warmth and affection he could’ve ever desired, and even after several months of being able to do just that, Aziraphale hadn’t lost the want of it. He loved the nearness of him, of being able to take care of someone who didn’t expect or demand. And as he sat and read with the sleeping snake as close as he could be, Aziraphale quickly decided he loved this too.

And Aziraphale was determined to make it worthwhile. He’d been torn apart before (by accidents, his own design, or furious hands seeking to punish), but the idea of doing so as a means to terrify - or, rather, to let Crowley terrify - beings on the most important night of the year was exciting. He could be helpful to him. He could be a part of Halloween for once, and as more than just a secret observer.

Eager to begin, to prove to both of them that he could handle this unusual stunt, he neatly stitched his chest back up with his partner snug and warm inside.

By Halloween, they were ready. They'd practiced both at home and in the Infernal Woods, making sure everything was as safe as could be for Aziraphale. He'd been much more willing to push things to the limit than Crowley, the serpent wary of _actually_ harming him. But there was very little that _hurt_. Aziraphale’s patchwork body didn't quite work that way, sensations more of a choice than a given. It was still very sweet of him to worry.

“Are you sure you want to spend the entire night hidden away?” he wondered, putting finishing touches on a new coat. He didn't want his favourite things to get ruined and, even though he'd be wearing virtually the same style as usual, it still felt more like a costume.

“‘Course. Getting to spend all Halloween surrounded by you? That’s a dream come true, I’d say.” Crowley shifted minutely inside Aziraphale’s chest cavity. He was still somewhat anxious about the proceedings, despite the assurances that there was little he could do that would cause lasting harm. The Angels had gleefully torn any piece of Aziraphale they thought would cause the most distress, and Crowley really did not want to be like that.

“I should hope so. We’ve never been able to do it before, have we?” Aziraphale wiggled happily, knotting his last stitch. “Peek out and have a look, could you? I think it looks near enough to my usual that no one should notice.”

Crowley slithered from his pocket of warmth and stuffing, poking his head out just far enough to give Aziraphale’s newly made clothes a proper once over. They probably looked quite odd, a patchwork man with his shirt and waistcoat partially undone and a snake coming out of a hole in his chest.

The new clothes looked strikingly similar to his old ones, a few of the patches on the coat weren’t in _exactly_ the same places, but it was close enough. “Mmm yeah. Lookss good, I think. M’probably the only one who’d be able to tell.” And that was because he’d spent a not-insubstantial amount of time examining every inch he could see before he was ever allowed to touch.

“Oh, wonderful.” Aziraphale stroked a finger down his scaled head. “I’m excited, actually, though it’s also a bit odd. I don’t have to sneak out this year.” Though he was going to sneak out of the house lest Anathema or Newt notice him exiting alone and wonder at the lack of their Pumpkin King. That was _fun_ , not necessity.

Crowley leaned into the warm caress, a shiver sliding down his long spine. “Yeah, you haven't needed to ssneak about for almossst a year now. Sssure you’re not russty?” he teased.

“You of all beings know the answer to that, dearest.” Aziraphale cupped his chin, coaxing him up with gentle strokes and kissing his snout. “This isn't going to be a problem at all.”

He did know, it was a monumental effort to keep Aziraphale in bed once he was awake. Often sneaking out of the bedroom to do early morning chores and make breakfast. He bumped his snout against Aziraphale’s warm lips, flicking his tongue to return the kiss, then slid the side of his head against his cheek. “You’re right. Ssshould put a bell on you ssso I know when you’re ssssneaking out of bed.”

Aziraphale couldn't help but giggle, still not at all used to so much affection but always willing to be subjected to it regardless. “Oh, dearest, as if that would actually help.”

Crowley had to begrudgingly agree with that as well. “Alright, alright, don’t get ssso ssssmug about it,” he grumbled and tickled Aziraphale’s cheek with his tongue. “Jussst you wait, I’ll figure out how to catch you eventually.”

“You've already managed that,” Aziraphale sweetly teased, amused. “Now get back in there. I want to enjoy getting to Halloween on time for once.”

Crowley preened. He had caught Aziraphale hadn’t he? An angel in his clutches for the rest of time, even if he was an early rising bastard. Crowley gave one last affectionate nuzzle to Aziraphale’s cheek before retreating back into his chest. A nest of warmth, soft bedding, and a gently ticking heart. “Alright, angel, ready when you are.”

Stitches, buttons, and Aziraphale was out the door with an eager little wiggle. He could feel Crowley in his chest, a lovely little weight that would grow and grow throughout the night. It was rather exciting, a giddy thrill running through him every time he pressed a hand over his heart and knew his beloved was there.

There were Halloween treats and frights and it was _so_ nice to be in the midst of it all for once. To be in the middle of all the excited build-up. He beamed at Anathema and Newt when he ran across them, able to be very honest that Crowley was hiding away in preparation of his closing performance for the evening. They didn't need to know where.

Though The Them wanted very much to know. Aziraphale just shook his head as he was surrounded by five eager children, taking care to avoid both Brian and the newest addition to The Them: Warlock. The poor dear didn't have complete control over himself yet and, well, fire _did_ hurt.

“I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't.”

“But he _always_ lets us help,” Pepper complained, muzzle managing quite the scowl.

“He's aiming for something different this year,” he hedged, knowing Crowley could hear the goings-on easily enough. It was hearing _him_ that was the problem and Aziraphale very much didn't want to ruin the surprise.

Crowley was struggling not to give everything away by laughing. Perhaps it was a bit mean-spirited, but it was a riot listening to Aziraphale try to dodge The Them’s probing questions instead of having to do it himself. He knew Aziraphale could probably feel his shaking coils as he held back his giggles. The kids would probably be quite incensed he hadn’t included them for this one, but it was Aziraphale’s first _proper_ Halloween. It deserved to be special.

“He’s not trying to skip out, is he?” Warlock asked, brushing his perpetually messy, and flaming at the tips, hair out of his face.

Aziraphale straightened. Crowley sniggering away distractingly in his chest or not, he was properly offended for him. “Of course not. He’s the Pumpkin King. His finale’s are essential.” Besides, they were Aziraphale’s favourite part of Halloween and always had been.

“Actually,” Wensleydale wondered, “are they? Technically, Halloween would happen without them.”

“But they wouldn’t be as scary.” Adam nodded firmly. “So they’ve got to happen just so the human world’s good and scared.”

Crowley had to admit he was quite proud of Adam, the kid would make a good replacement when he finally tired of the job. Maybe when that happened he could convince Aziraphale to let him have a house built out in the Infernal Woods. Someplace quiet and just for the two of them.

Warlock rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t seem that scary to me. Bet I could do better.”

“Don’t be wet,” Pepper chided. “The scariest thing about you is that you can set Brian’s slime on fire.” Which had altered Wensley’s previous findings and had been great fun until they’d realized their lair was actually in danger. It had turned into a very long afternoon of passing along buckets of swamp water to douse flames. “You’ve never even seen Crowley on Halloween. It’s _different_.”

Brian waved a dripping hand. “Are we going to get scared, d’you think? Since we don’t actually know what’s happening and all.”

Pepper scoffed, but there was some uncertainty behind her, “‘Course we won’t.”

Crowley certainly hoped they would. Thus far The Them had been directly involved in nearly all of his stunts so the surprise had been ruined. He was going to greatly enjoy seeing how Adam handled being properly scared; that would be the real test to see if he could deal with being in charge of fear and horror. It was also just plain fun to hear them being a bit nervous.

“I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens,” Aziraphale said, attention caught by the vampires causing a frightful ruckus. Curious, he made his silent way nearer to watch. As confused as ever when beings flinched away from him, he was glad at how readily they stepped aside for him so he could get in a good view. Next year, Crowley was really going to have to come up with something that didn’t require him to hide away most of the night. He would’ve liked to be on his arm through all of this, though being out and about was a thrill with him tucked somewhere safe and secret.

Until there was a sudden rustle of feather and a flare of flame that made Aziraphale’s heart tick out of rhythm, a sharp breath sucked in as he quickly stepped away. “Well, Aziraphale, I wasn’t expecting to see you _alone_.”

He opened his mouth to respond that he most certainly was _not_ alone, thank you, but held his tongue. He wasn’t so nervous that he’d spoil Crowley’s entire show. Not to _Gabriel_. “Yes, well, Crowley has an important night ahead.”

“Is it Christmas related?” he taunted, the other holiday dripping from him like poison.

Aziraphale took another cautious step away from him. “It’s not any of your business.”

Crowley was fighting with himself to not hiss angrily from inside Aziraphale’s chest cavity. He didn’t want to ruin the show, but he _would_ if Gabriel tried to make his angel leave or take him away. In their initial agreement, he’d never designated a specific time when Aziraphale would return to them. That, and Aziraphale’s quitting, were the loopholes he’d been exploiting anytime Gabriel or the other Angels tried to press the issue.

And Gabriel certainly seemed ready to press the issue that night. “Aziraphale, just how long do you intend to play at this... this farce? It’s pathetic, really.”

“What’s pathetic is your continued insistence that I go along with you. I quit. It was final.” Aziraphale pressed a hand over his heart as if he could keep Crowley in that easily. But Gabriel wasn’t worth spoiling his plans. “And, while I have no idea what farce you mean, I’ll be staying with Crowley until he stops loving me. I suspect you’ll be ash by then, so have a lovely evening. I’ve other things to do.”

If he wasn’t trying to stay quiet and hidden, Crowley would have hissed in triumph. He settled for thumping his tail in Aziraphale’s stuffing instead, not loud enough to be heard but enough so his love could feel the vibrations of it. He was proud of his angel for not being intimidated by that wanker. They’d show Gabriel just how well Aziraphale belonged here, and with him, tonight.

Aziraphale ducked away, hiding himself in an alley. He wasn't quite as unintimidated as he'd seemed, but he'd stand up to them a hundred more times if he had to. It was right for him and right for Crowley. “I hope the Angels are properly terrified by you tonight, dearest.”

“They’ll be terrified of you too, jussst you sssee,” Crowley said and pressed his head against the inside of Aziraphale’s chest. “Alright there, love? I can come out and give ‘em a spook if you need me to.”

“Absolutely not. You're not ruining your grand finale just for that.” Aziraphale laid a hand over the odd lump he made. “I'm alright, Crowley. No matter what they think, there's nothing they can do to me.”

Crowley pressed into Aziraphale’s hand, seeking to comfort and be comforted. He felt bad not being able to defend Aziraphale himself. “If you’re ssssure, angel. M’proud of you, you did ssso good. ‘M gonna ravisssh you when we get home tonight, you desserve it.”

“Oh, I'm sure.” Aziraphale wiggled, very tempted to release him right then anyway. He wanted to be wrapped around Crowley as thoroughly as the serpent was currently wrapped in him. “Now I have even more reason to be excited about the finale.”

“That you do. Go enjoy yourssself, angel. Ssshouldn’t be long till midnight now.”

“It isn't, and I am having fun. It's as wonderful as I'd always hoped, Crowley.”

“Good, angel. I’m ssso glad for you. You desserve to enjoy Halloween after sssso many yearss of being denied. Next year I’ll be besssside you the whole night, I promise.” And every year after that.

“I know. Not that I'm not enjoying this. I do adore having you so close, but I keep reaching for your arm or your hand to point things out to you.” Aziraphale shook his head. “I'm going to step out now. I think the werewolves and the vampires are about to begin bickering.”

Crowley snickered. “Ssssurprised it took ‘em thisss long to get at each other.” He retreated to coil around Aziraphale’s heart again and prepare for their big finale.

Smiling, keeping a hand over his heart, Aziraphale rejoined the crowd. He avoided further run-ins with the Angels, avoiding snarling Beelzebub and sharp-toothed Dagon when he noticed them terrorizing other beings, and chatted with Tracy when he ran across her and Mayor Shadwell in thick of things. She had to keep a firm grasp of his arm, both Old and Young alike trying to see everything. His head was liable to unscrew itself at this rate.

But time continued to tick on, their town square growing louder and louder as midnight drew nearer. The crescendo was nearing its peak.

Aziraphale wrung his hands together as he approached the edge of the crowd, the cacophony dulling as his anxiety rose. He still truly didn't believe he was scary enough to be a part of this, but Crowley had shifted in size. Under Aziraphale’s waistcoat, there was some obvious, mobile bulging. Everything was going to plan so far, though he had no idea if eyes were on him.

They were. And if they weren't, they turned towards him as he made his way towards the fountain. Not stumbling, no. Crowley had wanted this to appear as naturally unnatural as possible. Though as he reached the center of town square, he noticed things had gotten very, _very_ quiet.

He looked around at that realization, the discovery that the town was watching him giving him pause. Gosh, he thought, rubbing his palms nervously against his trousers. And then he did what came naturally: Aziraphale smiled.

Several shrieks let Crowley know it was time. His steady growth had stopped once the space had started feeling restrictive, and he could imagine how Aziraphale looked - stitching stretched and fabric bulging in odd places. Completely and entirely unsettling.

With a deep breath and a flex of muscle he willed his serpentine body to grow and expand, feeling Aziraphale’s muslin body, at first, expand with him, growing taut and tight, but suddenly those weakened seams were stretched beyond their limit.

A terrible ripping sound and Aziraphale’s practiced wail reverberated throughout the square. Crowley was only vaguely aware of the fainting and screaming of Halloween Town citizens, focused as he was on making sure Aziraphale’s head and wood-wool heart were kept intact

He grew to his full eighteen metres, body massive enough to coil entirely around the area Aziraphale had been standing and encompassed most of his ruined body. He let out a mighty hiss for good measure and to watch a few more beings either faint out right or flee, shrieks and screams and terrified bellow lighting up the night and rippling right into the human world to send shivers down spines and encourage ghost stories and excitement for another year.

Aziraphale, for his part, was already busily drawing all of himself near. His hands were busy, but easily distracted by the scales coiling around. Aziraphale only sighed at them. Yes, his serpent felt lovely but _really_. They had things to do.

It was better once they were attached to his wrists, arms connected to his shoulders shortly after. Eventually, his head was rolled onto his shoulders. That felt much better, particularly when he was able to tuck his heart away safe and sound and stitch his chest back together. Oh, and then his legs, of course. The clothes had been designed to rip along specific seams, making them easy to put back together and wriggle into as well, the screams and the susurrus of Crowley's whiplike movements his soundtrack as he pulled himself back together.

Aziraphale kept himself hidden in the coils, though, his creams and tans enveloped by thick black and rich red, and buzzed with pride. For Crowley and, for once, for himself. They'd actually screamed for fear of _him_. Little soft him. Aziraphale giggled, muffling the decidedly un-Halloween sound against his palms until he could compose himself enough to call out, “Dear, I'm all patched up now!”

Crowley twisted around and was delighted to see Aziraphale back in “tip-top condition” as he would say. Not a stitch out of place. Though the sight of him dwarfed by massive coils was almost enough to make Crowley drag him back home right then and there. He reigned that in though. Tracy and The Them were already trying to scold him for this stunt and wanting to know if Aziraphale was okay. As if he would have done anything to hurt him in the first place.

He slid back into being mostly human shaped, transforming with his arms already around Aziraphale. “See? Told ya he’s fine. Now stop yellin’ at me.”

“Oh, yes, I'm alright.” Caught in coils and arms, Aziraphale was beaming. It was a wonderful place to be.

“Has he been in there the whole time?” Brian wondered. “Tha's brilliant, that is!”

Adam nodded excitedly. “Wensleydale screamed. And so did Pepper. It was _wicked_.”

“Actually, Brian screamed too. And so did Warlock. Warlock even set someone on fire by accident.”

“Did not!” Warlock cried, the flames at the tips of his hair lighting up.

Crowley cackled. “Well, you can blame Aziraphale. He was the one with the brilliant idea.” He held on all the tighter, having missed being able to do so all night.

“Well, hardly. I only made a comment, as I recall. You had the clever idea.”

“Regardless of who had the idea, the execution was rather genius, I'd say.” Despite the hold, Tracy managed to capture Aziraphale’s hand to give it a squeeze and a pat. “Not a bad showing at all for a first proper Halloween.”

“I have to agree, Madame Tracy! I’m pretty sure I heard screams before I even busted out. I think Aziraphale here was proper scary.” As Crowley knew he could be.

“Oh, there was quite a bit of chaos before you appeared. The _tension_ in the air.” Tracy waved a hand, smiling sharp and bright. “You've been more trick than treat tonight, dear.”

“Well, I- Thank you.” Aziraphale leaned into Crowley’s hold as she headed off to Shadwell so they could begin the award ceremony. There were others in town who were pressing in, who wanted to congratulate and push out well wishes and monopolize their Pumpkin King's attention and, oh, he heard his own name. Several times, actually. Surprised and unsure what exactly to do with so much positive attention, he tucked against Crowley’s shoulder in an attempt to hide.

Crowley pressed his grin into Aziraphale’s hair. “Getting shy on me, angel?”

“Don't embarrass me, Crowley.”

“But that’s the best part,” Crowley mumbled into soft curls, pressing a kiss there. “Ready to get out of here?”

He wanted to protest because Crowley deserved every word of praise he was getting, but Aziraphale was ready to get back. To get wrapped up tight in coils and love. “Yes.”

Crowley hissed in delight and scooped Aziraphale up to carry him home. It was well known by now that he didn’t usually stick around for much of the awards, so it was easy to slip away from the revelers and slide between buildings. Aziraphale happy and giddy and only a little bit shy from all the attention, but tucked close to a cold-blooded heart that beat only for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on tumblr at [SylWritesStuff](https://sylwritesstuff.tumblr.com/) and [theladydrgn](https://theladydrgn.tumblr.com/)! 💖


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